


Familia

by minnies_musings



Category: Do No Harm (TV), In the Heights - Miranda
Genre: Continuation, FIx It, Fluff, Gen, Ruben's still alive and nothing you can say will make me change my mind, cross-over, request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 01:32:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10776666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minnies_musings/pseuds/minnies_musings
Summary: After moving to New York to escape what happened in Jamaica and Philly, Ruben thought he was home free. No one knew him there, it was a fresh start. But within his first few weeks, he’s approached not once, but twice by two different people who think that he’s someone else. And he can’t help but feel a little curious as to who this Usnavi character is.





	Familia

New York certainly isn't Jamaica (though to be honest he isn't sure he ever wants to set foot on that island ever again), but it's far enough away from Philly that Ruben feels he can relax a little bit. Sure there are still many nights where he wakes up screaming, thrashing to try and free himself from his covers, but he's slowly figuring out how to deal with them.

He finds a job in a local community college, and shortly after finds himself a small apartment just a short walk away. His new apartment building is just on the edge of a small neighborhood called Washington Heights, and while the apartment is small and the AC doesn't work, he's happy there. It's his place, no one can tell him what to do there. No one even knows he's there. His mother knows he's somewhere in New York, but she doesn't have any details. And Jason...god he doesn't want to even think about Jason.

He knows that the man is miles away, he knows that Ian’s gone, and he knows technically he isn’t in any more danger. But he still refuses to actually go outside unless absolutely necessary. Apartment, to bus, to class, then back on the bus and a mad sprint up the stairs to the safety behind his locked door.

And for the first while he is completely content doing just that, scurrying about outside in a complete panic, only really relaxing when he’s back in the comfort of his own apartment. He can’t help but feel like Jason’s going to stroll into his life at any moment, demanding something from him. The very thought sends a shudder down his spine and he doesn’t get out of bed for several hours, the covers pulled over his head and his pillow clutched desperately to his chest. As if the lumpy feathers could do anything against the voices and the memories and the idea that Jason (not Ian) is still out there.

After a month of this routine, Ruben finds himself sitting on the fire escape outside his window, legs dangling over the three-story drop. It’s cooler outside, especially with the sun just starting to sink below the horizon. For the first time in days he’s completely calm, content to simply watch people go by. Two boys stroll past, laughing and shoving each other before vanishing around a corner, their chatter still echoing around the street. Washington Heights, while fairly busy during the day seems to come alive with a new spirit when the sun went down.

Music drifts across the street from open windows, and the various scents of Caribbean cooking waft through the air. It’s then that Ruben realizes that he hadn’t eaten all day. To his surprise, he finds himself reluctant to climb back into his apartment. Though to be fair, it was still ridiculously warm in there. Never the less, he climbs awkwardly back in through the window, stumbling as he stubs his toe on the edge of his coffee table. With a curse he makes his way to the kitchen, freezing as he opens the fridge. Empty.

_Crap._

He takes a few minutes to rummage through his cupboards, but the contents are just as disappointing as the fridge. All he’s got is a pack of stale saltine crackers, and while that might have worked any other day, tonight he was actually hungry. Pity he had no idea what sort of food was available in the neighborhood. He bounced on his heels, looking from the door to the crackers, and then back again. A quick trip out couldn’t kill him, right?

_Besides_ , he thinks, _no one knows I’m here. No one knows who I am. Just…just a guy getting some food._

With that thought circling through his mind, he pulls on his shoes and steps out of his apartment, triple checking that it was locked behind him. Better safe than sorry. Within seconds he finds himself out on the street, and once again stops, looking around helplessly. It hits him then. He has _no_ clue where anything is. He knows how to get to the bus stop and that’s about it. And now he’s standing in the middle of the sidewalk like an idiot, rocking uncertainly on his heels. He debates going back inside, then decides against it. This is the first time he’s worked up the courage to go outside for anything other than work, he wasn’t going to turn and hide again.

Eventually he stumbles upon a little hole in the wall restaurant that looks relatively clean and is run by a little Dominican woman who reminds him a little of his own mother. It’s incredibly comforting to be honest. He finds a table in the corner and forces himself to just relax and eat. _Ian’s not here_ , he keeps telling himself, _there’s no way he’s ever coming back._ His head snaps up as the bell above the door dings and two women speaking impossibly fast Spanish enter, their laughter cutting through the air and despite himself Ruben smiles along with them, though he has no idea what they’re talking about. Someone named Yolanda? He’s not sure.

The women don’t actually notice him until they’re leaving, at which point they smile widely and wave. Ruben can only stare back at them in absolute confusion, tilting his head and frowning slightly. To his horror, the two women cross over to him but don’t sit.

“Usnavi, _[niño travieso](http://www.linguee.com/spanish-english/translation/ni%C3%B1o+travieso.html)._ I thought you were at the bodega tonight. Wait until Vanessa hears about this one.” The taller of the two says, resting her hands on her hips and pursing her lips.

“Uh…who?” Ruben manages to say, his voice shaking ever so slightly much to his displeasure. The women blink and turn to look at each other before looking back down to him, both now frowning in confusion.

“Uh…Dani? I don’t think he’s Usnavi.”

The taller of the two – Dani, he assumes – cocks her head a little more and steps closer, eyes widening after a moment.

“ _Aye dios_ , you have a point.” She says, taking a step back and offering an apologetic smile. “Sorry, we thought you were a friend of ours.”

Ruben manages a weak smile and shrugs it off with a faint mutter of ‘it happens’, and finally the two women leave the restaurant, once again chattering away with one another. Ruben watches them go before turning his attention to his half-eaten dinner. Well, there was lunch for tomorrow.

The next week passes without any incident. The same old routine, day in and day out. Run for the bus, triple check the locks, sit on the fire escape when the apartment gets too hot, make sure the plants get enough water and aren’t about to dry up in the summer heat. His normal, safe routine where nothing is supposed to go wrong. Until it does.

00o00

It’s a Friday, he’s just finished teaching intro to chemistry at the community college, and all he wants to do is sleep. He hadn’t slept well the night before, dreams of Ian and Jamaica haunting him and making it almost impossible to actually get to sleep. All day he’s been out of sorts, walking into doors and walls a little more often and forgetting what he was talking about halfway through the lecture. The only thoughts running through his mind as he steps off the bus are about his bed. He’s so lost in fantasizing about his heavy blanket and soft pillow that he doesn’t notice he’s taken a wrong turn until there’s a tight grip on his shoulder and everything grinds to a halt.

“Alright buddy, easy does it.” A voice says, uncomfortably close, and all Ruben can think is _Ian’s here, Ian’s found me and I’m going to die._ He doesn’t speak though, freezing completely as the hand leaves his shoulder and a slight figure with a hat pulled low over their face circles round to stand in front of him. It’s not Ian, but Ruben can’t quite make his brain fully understand that. The figure’s mouth is moving, and it takes him a moment before he understands. Wallet. The kid wants his wallet.

He fumbles in his pocket for it, hesitating and staring at the black leather for a moment. It’s not like he’s really strapped for cash, he’s still got some of the drug money from Oz, but he would really rather not lose the forty dollars that’s in his wallet. The guy in front of him is eyeing the leather as well, and eventually grows too impatient.

“You stupid or something? I said hand it over!” He’s shouting now, and Ruben can’t help the slight step back he takes, his heart hammering so loudly he’s surprised the guy doesn’t hear it. His hands are shaking as he goes to hand over the wallet. Just before he has the chance to actually hand it over, there’s a shout from behind him and someone running up. The would-be thief pales and turns on his heels, racing down the street and vanishing around a corner.

“Yo, you alright ‘Navi?” Again, there’s a hand on his shoulder and Ruben whirls around, eyes wide and panicked.

“Wh-what?” He stutters, tremors going through his whole body. The new arrival, a larger man with a buzz cut looks down to him with a slight frown.

“What, that guy hit you on the head or something? Usnavi, come on you know this place is full of punks like that.”

There’s that name again. Ruben has no idea who this ‘Usnavi’ guy is, but he seems to be incredibly popular in this area. Popular enough for…whoever this is to come to his rescue.

“I-I’m uh not…” He trails off, clenching his hands at his sides and clenching his eyes closed. The guy looks down to him for a moment before nodding.

“I don’t wanna hear it. Come on, let’s get you back to the bodega.”

“I don’t know who Usnavi is.” Ruben manages to say, taking a step back and wrapping his arms around himself. It’s getting harder to breath, and every noise on the street is making him jump. He wants to run but he can’t make his feet move.

“You don’t…oh, _oh_ shit sorry man.” The guy says, noticing Ruben’s discomfort and taking a step back, giving him room to breathe. “Hey you doing okay? You…you going to be okay to go wherever you were going?”

Ruben wants to say yes. He wants to be able to walk back to his apartment without an issue and just drop into bed like nothing happened. But he can’t bring himself to move, can barely bring himself to shake his head. The guy frowns a moment, watching him before offering a small, reassuring smile.

“You want me to walk you back?”

And to his surprise, Ruben nods.

00o00

It’s early, and he has no idea what day of the week it is. He hasn’t slept in days, hasn’t left his apartment. He hasn’t even gone out onto the fire-escape. And then he finds that he can’t stand to be inside any longer. The sanctuary he’s built suddenly feels too small, like the walls are inching in towards him. The heat inside is unbearable, but sitting on the fire-escape doesn’t do much to help. He needs to get out.

 The sun isn’t up yet and he’s walking the streets, hands tucked into his pockets and eyes glued to the ground. He isn’t really sure where he’s going, until he catches a whiff of coffee on the breeze. He perks up at this, and follows it to a little corner shop that, surprisingly, is open. He hesitates outside the door before pushing his way inside, flinching as the little bell above the door rings.

There’s a kid in a tank-top, his hat on backwards stoking the shelves at the front. He barely glances up as Ruben enters, instead turning to shout towards an open door at the back.

“Yo ‘Navi! You got a customer!”

“How do you know it’s for me?”

“Because no sane person is awake this early without your famous _café con leche_.”

_‘Navi?_ Ruben frowns, tilting his head slightly. _There’s that name again._ He glances up as a young man wearing a bright red shirt steps out of the back room, stretching his arms up over his head before pausing slightly at the sight of Ruben.

The two stare at each other for a moment, one wide awake and practically bouncing on his feet, the other hunched over and exhausted. The kid in the tank-top eventually peaks up over the display, jaw dropping as he looked between the two.

“Yo, you never told me there were two of you!” He said, bounding around the corner and circling Ruben curiously. “He’s like…Usnavi 2.0!”

“Jesus…Sonny, go sort the trash or something.” The guy, Usnavi, says, rubbing the palm of his hand over his eyes. Ruben simply stars at him while the kid grumbles and slips off without another word.

“So…you’re the guy who’s been running around the barrio looking like me.” Usnavi says, and there’s no anger in his voice, just simple amusement. Ruben blinks and cautiously follows him to the counter, keeping a step back just in case.

“And you’re the guy everyone keeps mistaking me for.” He says, smiling weakly. Usnavi laughs, and the sound is bright and cheerful, and Ruben can’t help but smile wider.

“You know…your friends seem like really nice people.” He says after a moment, blinking as Usnavi sets a steaming cup of coffee down in front of him. And he means it. He hasn’t had many friends in his life, and even fewer who would have rescued him from thief without expecting anything in return. “You’re a lucky guy, Usnavi.”

“Well…when you live in the Heights everyone kind of becomes family after a while.” Usnavi says with a slight shrug, leaning on the counter and tilting his head curiously. “Now…Just who _are_ you? Because I think it’s going to get confusing for everyone if they think there are two of me running around.”

And again, Ruben can’t help but smile warmly.

**Author's Note:**

> So this was a request that's been sitting in my WIP folder forever (and by forever I mean like...two weeks tops).


End file.
